I Didn't Tell You I'm In a Band Now?!

One would think that my seemingly endless hours of doing nothing would lend themselves to incessant blogging on my part. One would think incorrectly. You see, I have to be in a very particular frame of mind to put my thoughts into written form, and I just haven't found myself in that place too often lately. Maybe it's the stress of still being unemployed. Maybe it's the thrill of meeting new people (one person in particular...) Or maybe it's the excitement of being in a new band! Okay, so that was a lame way to get to the whole "I'm in a new band" revelation, but there it is.

I'm in a new band! It was quite simple how it all worked out. I was perusing Craigslist, an activity that has become something of an addiction for me these days, when I ran across an ad looking for a soulful, bluesy singer. I replied, sent a link to some stuff I recorded back home and waited. Within 20 minutes, I got a reply from the guitar player saying he loved my voice and wanted me to come in and audition (I'm not tooting my own horn here, just relaying information). A week or so later, I found myself driving up to the Valley to meet and sing for a group of total strangers. It was scary and exhilarating and nerve-wracking and fun. I can tell you that I wasn't on my A-game. It wasn't my best performance. But they seemed to dig it anyway, and within a couple of days, I got a call saying they wanted me.

As it turns out, I'll be fronting this band with a guy named JT. He's a Louisiana native, so we'll have that Southern thread in common at least. And I can't tell you how excited I am to get to do the male/female vocal thing. I love that melding of masculine and feminine voices. It creates a very unique energy that can be so powerful and moving. I know I'm rambling, but singing is my soul and I'm so thrilled to have an outlet for it now. Finally!

Our first practice is tonight. I'll be singing some Grace Potter, Susan Tedeschi and Arc Angels this evening, and doing a couple of duets of Clapton tunes. I'm ready. I've never been more ready.

It's Good To Be Home

Finally, I have arrived. I'm at home on South Bentley Avenue in west L.A., happy as a pig in the sunshine, looking forward to the life that's just starting. I moved in on Friday, joining a couple of stellar roommates for what I'm certain will be one of the greatest years of my life. I know it's bold to assume such a thing, but the fact remains that I believe this is the point at which everything truly begins for me. That's not to say that the previous years haven't been good. They have. Some have been great. But there's something bigger waiting and I have no doubts that I'll find whatever that may be here in my new home.

I finally got a bed. It's heavenly. I finally have nothing in the trunk of my car (although I still have plenty of junk in my trunk, if you know what I'm sayin'...I have GOT to get back on the workout routine soon). I finally have my own private bathroom, my own closet, my own private haven. Not to mention, there's a great patio upstairs that allows me to sunbathe privately. You know, until the trunk is sans junk.

We had a barbecue on Sunday. A lovely Labor Day weekend for sure. But it's hard to go wrong with burgers, chili cheese dip and many spirited rounds of beer pong. I'm meeting new people. Making connections. Making friends. Finding inspiration. Today, I was doing a little pickin' and grinnin' in my room. When I stopped between songs, a voice from across the alley said, "Sounds good! Do you play anywhere around here?" Then she proceeded to introduce herself and tell me that she had turned off her music to listen to me sing. If that's not a sign from above, I don't know what is.

And Who's the Official Queen of Surprises?

Me. I am the official Queen of Surprises. I got crowned yesterday, as a matter of fact, after showing up at my parents' house in Golden, Mississippi, completely unannounced and unexpected. It was one of the most satisfying and fun days I have ever experienced. Let me recap the various reactions of unsuspecting family members:

My Mother: She was the first one I saw when I walked in. She gasped, then had a complete meltdown. She couldn't let go and she couldn't stop crying! It was awesome (not that she was crying, obviously, but that she was so shocked to see me).

My Daddy: He was taking a nap because he wasn't feeling well at all, so when Mother opened the bedroom door and I stepped in, he looked completely disoriented and unsure that he was really seeing me in his doorway. Mother actually had to say, "You're not dreaming. She's really here!" But he knew it was real when I started hugging on him!

My Aunt (who wins the award for "Best Reaction"): Mother called her to come by and get some dinner. I waited patiently for her to wander into the kitchen. When she saw me, she screamed, threw her hands up into the air, and started laughing/dancing her way across the kitchen. Between the screaming guffaws, and while she was holding on to me for dear life, she was saying, "How?" and "When?" It was the funniest thing ever.

My Grandmothers: The first one also wandered unsuspectingly into the kitchen, though it took her a few minutes to see me. When she realized what was going on, she hugged on me in shock, though not for long because she immediately turned to the culprits who knew about it and started firing questions. I don't think she ever really understood that nobody knew I was coming! And she wanted to know why no one told her!

My other grandmother, who has a "bad leg" (yes, the quotations are there for a reason), nearly jumped out of her recliner when she saw me come into her house. She moved quickly and with purpose. I'm pretty sure her leg's fine based on her reaction time. Had she been a swimmer, she would've beaten Phelps off the block. No doubt about it.

So now you see why I'm the Queen of Suprises. I've been awaiting this title for years, but this last shenanigan sealed the deal for sure. It's good to be home.

I'm Sorry, But I Need to Make a List

It's a beautiful Friday afternoon in San Clemente. In honor of the sunshine (which I cursed earlier when I got too hot washing dishes) I'd like to make a random list of things I enjoy immensely. It's a completely pointless list, and probably not even marginally entertaining to read, but here it goes.

1. I like palm trees. They make me quite giddy, actually. I don't know why. Maybe it goes back to childhood vacation memories when the sight of palm trees was a clear indication that we were almost at the beach. I particularly enjoy the ridiculously tall, skinny ones. In my brain, they don't seem physically capable of standing without folding right in half, what with that big 'ole poof of leaves on the top. But they do stand up. And they're awesome. And they're everywhere. And I kind of wish I could be one. Moving right along...

2. I like driving fast enough to shave minutes off the arrival time that is provided by my navigation system at the beginning of every trip. It's almost like a game. It gives me great, great pleasure to watch that time go down, even if only by a minute or two. This is not a good thing, considering the lead foot that I inherited from my dear father.

3. I like beer. I think that one explains itself, though I must admit that my beer passions are heightened this time each year when Sam Adams puts out their seasonal Octoberfest. It's a crying shame (or a blessing in disguise, perhaps?) that I can only get it two months out of the year.

4. I like chatting online. There. I said it. I don't care if it locks in my already solid dork status. There's a certain art to getting your point across without vocal inflection or tone and without facial expressions (emoticons don't REALLY count, people). I like to think I'm good at it. And my wittiness seems to triple during instant messaging exchanges. You wouldn't even believe it. I'm a riot.

5. I like pinkberry. Yeah, I'd never heard of it either 'til California. I tried it for the first time last weekend, and God bless the person who took me there because, goodness gracious alive, the stuff rocks! I feel sorry for other frozen yogurt. I really do.

Country Girl Really is Going to Town

The only surefire way I know of to make sure I go after what I really want is to broadcast my intentions to everyone I know. This way, you see, I'm always held accountable for the dreams I'm threatening to follow. I can't slink away from it anymore, because too many people know about it. Too many people will call me out on it. Too many people have seen my heart exposed.

So here I am before you now, spilling my guts about what I'm looking for in my life. I want to sing. I want to be onstage. I've wanted to be a singer for as long as I can remember (which isn't saying much - I honestly have a hard time recalling what I did yesterday). Somewhere around the precious age of 5, my sweet Daddy taught me "Jolene." He would play it on his Yamaha acoustic and I would sing it for anyone who would listen. "I'm beggin' of you, please don't take my man." Maybe that's where this obsession started. Or maybe it started on one of those countless Sundays at Golden Central Baptist singing those beautiful old hymns. Those are still some of my favorite songs. Wherever the seed was planted, its roots took hold. They were deep even then. And they've only grown deeper since.

Even as insignificant as my acoustic shows in Starkville were, they made me feel alive. It didn't matter if I was singing for three people, which I did on a couple of occasions, or if I was singing for a bar full. I am my true self when I am singing. You won't find a more honest representation of my very heart. It's my favorite feeling on earth. I yearn for it. I ache for it. I need it to be me. It's a revealing and personal experience. And I'm fairly certain that if you look just right while I'm singing, you can actually see my soul. Right there, out in the open, sharing itself with everyone in the room.

So what's my point here? As of September 1, I will be a resident of L.A. I found some great roommates and a pretty sweet apartment. I'm going there for one reason and for one reason only: to sing. The music world is a horrifying place. I don't know if I can hack it. But you know, I didn't know if I could hack moving across the country and that's worked out well so far.

I don't have a job yet. Making rent won't be easy, and I know it. But if I have to slave at Starbucks or serve cheap beer in a dive bar (right, like alcohol in L.A. is cheap) then that's what I'll do. I said when I left Mississippi that I was sick of taking the easy road. Sick of doing the expected. Sick of being secure and comfortable. So this country girl's heading to town. She's not so scared of pursuing her dream. She's horrified, though, of what will happen to her soul if she never tries.

I Know Just How You Feel, Ms. King

Carole King once sang about feeling the earth move under her feet. Granted, her earth was moving because her would-be lover was in the vicinity. Yesterday my earth was moving because, well, my earth was actually moving. I experienced my first earthquake, ladies and gentlemen! It was like my official "Welcome to California!" from God Himself. I can't say I appreciated it too much.

Here's what happened...

It's 11:42 a.m. on Tuesday, July 29. I'm getting ready to leave the apartment to drop off a project for my oh-so-lucrative (sense the sarcasm) part-time, freelance proofreading job when I feel something that confuses, disorients, baffles and horrifies me. The floor is wobbling. The windows are rattling. Things are shaking. Have I inadvertently ingested some mind-altering substance? Did Jess drop some acid in my milk jug this morning, perhaps? Is there a large aircraft flying entirely too close to my tiny home? Could I be experiencing San Clemente's very first elephant stampede? No, no. Not even close. It's an earthquake.

Okay, so I like to be overly dramatic from time to time. The whole fiasco couldn't have lasted more than 15 seconds or so and, oddly enough, the shaking didn't immediately trigger an "It's an earthquake!" response in my brain. Actually, by the time I realized what was happening and remembered what I learned in elementary school about getting in a doorway (because who knew I'd ever actually USE that piece of information), the whole thing was over. And I'll gladly admit, it completely freaked me out. I was wound up and terribly anxious for about an hour afterward.

Yes, tornadoes, hurricanes and fires are scary. But you can run from those. And in most cases, you know they're coming before they happen. Not so with the sneaky earthquake. You never see him coming. He's the annoying ex that pops up in the middle of your perfect dinner date. Or the misbehaved child that yells in church right when the prayer's getting good and makes you jump six inches off the pew.

Truth is, there's just not a damn thing you can do when plates shift. Not a pleasant thing for a gal who likes to always be in control, or so I'm told. But as they say, c'est la vie! And welcome to California!

Ready for Fireworks

Another Fourth of July has arrived. Unbelievable, really. I'm not sure how it got here so quickly, or how I am so far from where I was this time last year, not just in distance, but in every other way possible. My mind is different. My heart is different. I'm still pretty cheesy. I guess that's the only thing that hasn't changed...

At any rate, here I sit, eagerly anticipating so many things. Not knowing what's going to happen in the next month or even the next week used to horrify me. Now it excites me. I have new friends. I have a new life. I have a chance to do and see things I've never had access to before. It's thrilling, to say the least. And I'm so anxious to experience all of it. Warning: Cheesiest line EVER coming right now...

I'm ready for fireworks.

Yes, I'm ready for the fireworks I'll see when I sit on the beach later this evening. But I'm ready for bigger, better, longer fireworks. You know what I'm talking about. The explosions that come from landing a new job, going on a first date or finding a new apartment. The colors that don't fade into the darkness above an endless ocean, never to be enjoyed again. I'm ready. Who's got the lighter?